Chapter Twenty Two.
My Last Interview with Metilulu—Farewell to the Kraal—The Honey Guide—The Bush on Fire.
The next morning we three were early astir; indeed, as may be imagined, I nor Thompson had not slept much all that night, through thinking of our speedy return. Even the few preparations we had to make were soon completed in our hurry, then we sat down to see if Metilulu, to whom I had communicated my intention of leaving, by his kind permission, that day, would send any farewell message or adieu. I fancied he would not, for from what I could gather he apparently had taken my desire to quit his tribe as a great piece of ingratitude. I was exceedingly sorry that we should part thus, but how could I help it? How could I make it otherwise?
It was while thus waiting that I began to think of Zenuta—poor, affectionate Zenuta! My heart blamed me bitterly for leaving her without a word, without again seeing her—as I intended to do—for I dreaded the parting scene, more as may be supposed for her sake than my own, for all my affections were centred upon the dear ones at home, while hers, I knew too well, were fixed with a grasp like that of iron upon my unworthy self.
I pictured her eager inquiry of the warriors who were to fetch the residue of the tribe to their new dwelling as to where I was, and her surprised despair when they said that I had gone—gone for ever—leaving but a kind message for her, and endowing her with all my household goods. How little would she regard the latter? How poignant would be her grief? How would she bear my cruel desertion? I asked myself. With rage? with passionate indignation? or with deep hopeless despair and prostrate heart-broken sorrow? The thought was too painful, even in the surmise—I felt my lip tremble and my eyes grow misty. Poor girl! I would have done as much for her as I would for a dear sister; but neither sister, father, nor mother, could have made me renounce the chance of once more joining my wife and children.
It was just as I had ended giving Mr Ferguson numerous messages for Zenuta, and earnestly entreating him to be as kind as I knew he could be to her, adding that he would find the first seeds of our pure faith deeply implanted in her heart, that Tugela appeared outside the hut, where we instantly joined him. Accompanying him was the warrior whose life we had saved, and who now bore across his shoulders several valuable skins, which Tugela informed me were mine, Metilulu having sent them as presents. The chief apparently had become far more reconciled to my leaving after the message that I would send him presents from the white settlements, and even now requested that I would come to his hut to take farewell.
Accordingly I at once proceeded thither, and found him in a very amiable mood. After a little conversation, he hinted at what kind of presents he should like, especially one of those guns of which I had spoken. I promised I would not forget, and neither did I, but sent him a pretty large parcel of English articles, that I knew he would greatly value. Finding him in so different a humour to what I had expected, I ventured to mention Zenuta, saying I hoped, though I regarded all my property in Caffraria as his, that he would yet permit me to bestow it as a dowry on the poor girl. He immediately consented, no doubt having a dread of taking her back into his harem, and said that, possessing the cows, she would assuredly soon find a husband. This settled, I arose and took my leave, my last words being a reiteration of my promise not to forget the gun among the other presents I intended to send.
I then proceeded to say farewell to those among the tribe with whom I was on friendly terms, and lastly with Tugela, whom I felt much regret in leaving never to meet again, for he had been a kind friend and a most intelligent companion. Afterwards, having warmly embraced Mr Ferguson, and received his final messages to his friends in England, I and Thompson, accompanied by Umatula, started for the bush, or, as we said, though so many miles of danger yet laid between us and it—home. Ah, how sweet the word sounded!
We got on extremely well that day, for Jack and I were in the best of spirits, and could look upon most hardships as trifles, while our Kaffir companion, possessing an amount of intelligence more than usual with his tribe, kept us amused by recounting numerous hunting and lifting parties in which he had borne a part.
It was during our first morning’s march that Umatula called our attention to a bird perched on a bush in front of us, who by his cherr-cherring cry seemed to be trying to attract our notice. Such evidently was the case, for no sooner did he find he was seen than he began hopping further on, stopping and looking back to see if we were following.
This immediately we did, for I now recognised it to be a bird I had often heard about but never seen, called the Honey Guide, from the fact that he will lead man, of whom he appears to have no fear, to where the bees have constructed their hive, so that they may gather the sweet contents, of which the Kaffir is exceedingly fond. Therefore, from bush to bush we followed, the little creature keeping up its cherring cry till, finally, it came to a halt upon a tree, in a hollow of which we descried the comb.
Umatula speedily extracted the treasure, for the natives are most skilful in this performance, and we all willingly partook of it, taking care to leave a plentiful supply for our little friend the Honey Guide, who, from a neighbouring branch, waited impatiently for his share or reward.
When we were once more on our way Umatula told us that not only did the Kaffir make use of this little bird, but the Honey Ratel also availed itself of its services. This animal—a species of the weasel tribe—would, he said, follow the bird like we had to the treasure, tear it from the tree with its sharp claws, its thick coat being impervious to the enraged insects’ stings, devour its share, and leave a sufficient quantity as remuneration to its guide.
With the help of our assagais and knob-kerries we had killed enough game to make us a first-rate repast, and as night drew on, when it had been agreed we should bivouac, we lighted a large fire, both to cook our provisions and to scare any wild beasts that might be near, for we could hear their different roars and howls deeper in the bush. It was while attending to the culinary preparations that Thompson, with a round oath, suddenly sprang from the fire as if it had burned him—a movement speedily explained by the sudden apparition of a large snake within the circle of light. Without taking any notice of Jack or either of us, the creature moved rapidly along to the fire, being attracted by the warmth. We watched it curiously, as swiftly it went so close to the embers that it must have burnt itself severely, yet it only drew back again to approach till, I am sure, it would have ended by killing itself, as I have heard many do, had not Umatula destroyed it by striking it on the head with his knob-kerrie. Whereupon Thompson, seeing that, should any more snakes come, it would be because of the fire, not him, after a space proceeded with his cooking, upon which, when completed, we made a hearty meal; then, Umatula taking the first watch upon himself, we rolled ourselves each in our own kaross and speedily slept the sleep of the fatigued, for we had made a great way in our journey that day.
At an agreed time Umatula awoke me to take his turn of rest, while I watched—an employment I scarcely felt up to, being so extremely drowsy that, fearing to fall off in slumber, I got up, and drawing the fire together supplied it with fresh fuel; then sitting down, I tried to keep myself awake by imagining the surprise my return would create, and how all the papers would be full of the history of the two shipwrecked mariners who had spent over a year among the almost unknown tribes of Caffraria.
But all these manoeuvres could not prevent my heavy eyelids from closing, and I fancy I must have actually dozed off, when I was suddenly aroused by vague consciousness that the place was growing much lighter. We had encamped upon a hillside, and on looking up I perceived the sky, over the tree tops in the direction of the plains, to be of a light yellow glow.
My first movement was to arouse my companions, but recollecting how tired they must be, I determined before doing so to enquire a little further into the cause, as it might be some celestial phenomenon which in a moment would disappear, though to me it had the same appearance as a large fire would have in England. For this purpose I quickly mounted higher up the hill, and scaling a rocky projection turned and gazed back.
Heavens! what a sight met my view—grandly beautiful, but how awful! Some distance off the whole plain before me was covered by a vast sheet of fire, which leaped and lapped with its forked tongues as it rushed onward. The entire distance appeared in flames—as if the end of the world had come.
With the speed of consternation I dashed back to my companions, and shouted in their ears, “Up, up! for heaven’s sake; be quick! The bush is on fire, and the flames are coming in our direction.”
The words acted like magic; both were instantly on their feet, and following me to my previous post of inspection.
No sooner had Umatula discovered the direction of the fire, which each moment was increasing in rapidity, than shouldering the skins, he bade us follow him; for we laid right in the fierce element’s track, and did it reach us it would be certain death.
“We must get to yonder rock,” he said, pointing to one some distance off, “on the top of it we may perhaps be safe.”
With as much speed as we could muster we instantly followed the swift Kaffir, and with hands and legs torn by the strong thorns of the cacti bushes succeeded in reaching the summit of the rock where, throwing ourselves down, breathless with our haste, we contemplated the spreading conflagration.
If it was grand before, it was terribly so now, for it covered the whole plain and was rushing up the hillside, the flames curling into the air like things of life, leaping from bush to bush, springing up in spiral columns to the skies, and destroying all signs of vegetation in its path.
As it reached the hill and bush, roars and howls of terror suddenly arose from all the affrighted dwellers in its shades. The most fierce as the weakest fled before this pitiless, unconquerable enemy, which seemed to leap and laugh rejoicing in the pursuit. Then with an awful howl the bush disgorged its inmates. Antelopes, tigers, jackals, hyaenas, elephants, and even here and there a large snake, came rushing forth in one confused herd—no longer thinking of preying on each other, though the gembok fled shoulder to shoulder with the lion—all being possessed with but one idea in that terrible moment, to escape from the frightful enemy behind them.
I have never beheld such a sight, and never shall again. No scene I am sure in all the world could surpass the grandeur of that—fire in the bush.
Thank heaven, the rock Umatula had selected was slightly out of the track of the flames, and to our relief we saw them sweep past, their heated breath scorching our cheeks, leaving first red embers, then a vast extent of burnt charred vegetation in their tract.
“However could this have occurred,” I exclaimed to Umatula when all danger was over, “such an accident is most dangerous.”
“Not at all; this is no accident,” he laughed. “The Kaffirs have done it to improve the grass for the cattle.”
“Done it!” I repeated in surprise.
“Yes; directly the oxen have eaten a patch of grass to the stubble and it gets coarse, my countrymen set fire to it when the cows are safe in the isibaya and the wind does not lay that way but towards the bush.”
“But they ruin the land for miles,” said Thompson gruffly.
“No, they improve it; the charred wood and stubble serve for manure, and if rain come the land is speedily recovered by a fresh vegetation.”
This was perfectly true. The scorched blackened soil which we now looked upon from our height of rock would in a brief period send forth sweet green young shoots, forming an excellent food for cattle.
Certainly the plan might be very good, but I hoped within myself, while Thompson expressed the same wish aloud in English, that when the natives had recourse to this method of strengthening the ground, there might not be any unfortunate travellers like ourselves in the neighbourhood. Then with a prayer of thanks for our preservation from both of us, we once more laid down, now on the top of the rock, and feeling ourselves safe owing to the exterminating fire from any unpleasant intrusion, were all three in a short time sleeping soundly.